Marietta must notice, too, because as soon as we reach the kitchen, she leans close to my ear and says, “I think Jami and Adam are up to things.”
I squeeze her thighs where I hold her in place. “What kind of things, Miss Marietta? Things like this?” I whip her back around and set her on the counter by the sink to drag her face to mine.
We linger on the kiss for a while, sunshine blasting through the kitchen windows, the sound of another roar of laughter drifting down the hall from the meeting room.
“Or this,” she says, taking my hands and sliding them up the inside of her sweater to cup her breasts.
I’m about to one up her on that one when Betz and the others return to the kitchen.
“Aw, shit, they’re at it again,” she says. “Get out of here, you fuck bunnies.” But nobody misses the laugh in her voice.
I pull Marietta off the counter. “Come on,” I tell her. “It’s a great day for your first ride. You ready to learn?”
“You bet I am.”
I take her hand and lead her out of the kitchen and through the living room. Celia and Carol coo over the baby on the sofa while the other kids assemble an oversized puzzle on the floor.
This is what a motorcycle club looks like, I think. Women and kids and love affairs. It can be hard, patrols and protection and raids and defending from encroachment. But mostly, it’s this, community and family and protection.
We step outside, and I fish in my pocket for the patch Marietta brought me. Soon it will be time to give her one, too, if she’ll have me.
But for now, I pass her a helmet and watch her throw a long leg over my bike.
Time to teach my lady to ride.
EPILOGUE: MARIETTA
Four months later
The colored lights wash over the stage, and the five poles glint as members of my dance class all climb to the tops.
We’re not perfectly in sync as we execute Hello, Boys and slide down in a slow spin, but it’s good enough for this crowd.
Our instructor Terra whoops the loudest from a table in the front. I can pick her out. Plus, Chain. I’ve heard him catcall and holler so many times that I would know him anywhere.
I can’t see into the bar itself, not with all the lights Merrick installed for us to perform, but I know he’s out there. So are Diesel and Symphony, Bailey and Rhett, and Jenna. Most of the Wild Hair, too, including Adam and Jami, who have become tight, and Christina.
I hear a “You go, girls.” That might have been Betz!
The five of us fall into our Diamonds, then scoot across the floor. The music is loud and sultry, and I feel in my element. When I proposed we do a group dance to Merrick, we agreed there would be no stripteases, nothing to overly ignite the crowd one way or another. We all wear matching black crop tops and boy shorts with black heels.
I couldn’t help myself, so I didn’t bother with a bra, knowing that on some of the inversions, I would flash the crowd “accidentally.”
And I did. It was fucking hot.
Everyone moves to the final formation. Since I’m the fastest climber, I’m in the center at the top of the pole. Then the two closest are a third of the way from the top. The final two on the ends are halfway up.
We all hit our final pose, arms out, as the song ends.
Everybody cheers.
It’s over the top exciting to perform for real people. I glance at the other girls, and they are all breathing hard and glowing with adrenaline. I think we’ll be able to do this regularly. Terra is already teaching us more routines to perform.
I feel on top of the world.
We slide down as the bar lights blink on again, bringing the room back to its usual hazy neon.
Jake and a new bouncer, Marco, head on stage to break down the poles so the band can come on.
